


Nor Envy

by testedcyberneticz



Category: Animator vs. Animation (Short Film 2006)
Genre: Takes place where dark is redeemed i guess, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, advice that shouldnt rlly be used, as a treat, dark gives advice and fails, it makes me look stupid, self projecting express, these sticks make me think so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testedcyberneticz/pseuds/testedcyberneticz
Summary: The Chosen One did not get jealous. Nor did he experience envy. That was not how someone like him should work, at least from his experience. It could be distracting and cause his downfall if correctly used by the enemy.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Nor Envy

The Chosen One did not get jealous. Nor did he experience envy. That was not how someone like him should work, at least from his experience. It could be distracting and cause his downfall if correctly used by the enemy. It was important to not let that kind of thing touch him, no matter what. It would be a pitiful downfall, among other things. He wouldn't let himself succumb to something like that, not after everything he had gone through and escaped from. 

However, the Second Coming was making a feeling that was all too similar bubble inside him, ready to boil over the edges of the dams he had built at any moment. He didn't hate them at all, not even close. He wasn't even mad at them, but...

The Chosen One grabbed at his head and groaned, feeling his own shoulders push up, then down.

"I don't know how you do that. Get super annoyed quietly, I mean," The Dark Lord commented while looking over his hand, as if he actually had anything on it, "Especially the groaning. People are usually yelling when they do it as dramatic as you are, y'know." 

The Chosen shot him a look. 

"Orrr," He was dragging out his words, that meant he was confident with what he was about to say, "You're trying to make sure fruit soda over there," he gestured toward the group of colorful sticks, "Don't notice their pile of ashes is upset."

The Chosen straightened his posture and stared at the Lord before him. 

"In general, it's kind of a dumb move," The Chosen knew, but the Lord continued anyways, "They'll notice. They always do. Some weird kind of friend psychokinesis. Friendikinesis. Something like that. I've noticed they like making friends with things they really shouldn't." 

The Chosen One continued to stare.

"We're both proof of that, really." 

* * *

The Chosen One did not get jealous. Nor did he experience envy. That was not what someone like him should be allowed to feel. To feel envy is to imply that there is a want for a better life. To feel envy is to wonder about aspects of your own life. At least to himself, anyways.

However, the Second Coming made him feel something that made him unsure on what to say. Not many noticed. Most could not tell the difference between when he had something to say, and when he didn't. It was more than on purpose. 

"What do you think?" said the voice of the Second, their hand holding the pencil tool so gently that it felt that if he himself held it, it would shatter, "Of this frame, I mean. I think it looks weird." 

The Chosen shrugged. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

It was almost too familiar but not, and it grated on his nerves. So essentially, he didn't know. 

"...Uh." The Second tilted their head to the side and fidgeted with the pencil tool in their hand. After some more time passed, they began tapping their feet together. 

The Chosen simply watched and waited.

They walked and pointed at a specific part, "Does this leg look off? Just nod or shake your head." 

That caught him off guard for a second, something he cursed himself for, and then he nodded curtly. The Second Coming seemed to do a dance in place for some reason as some quick kind of celebration, which was weird, because he'd just told them something was off with the drawing, not complimented it. Which no, he wasn't trying to be aggressive, just being honest. The leg did in fact look a little backwards, and the Chosen was happy that the Second had pointed at it.

"Thank you!" They said with excitement, then got back to working on the animation frame with a bounce in their step. 

The Chosen One hated how much that made him feel an emotion like that of almost protectiveness, then want. Specifically, wanting to be able to have it in him to express like that, like there wasn't something constantly ready to attack.

He pushed the feeling down roughly into a vault, then threw out the key.

* * *

The Chosen One did not get jealous. Nor did he experience envy. That was not like how someone like him should function. If one is to experience envy or jealously for too long, they could be sucked in and never spat out. And so, it was best to simply not give it attention, to throw it away and not let oneself see it. 

However, the Second Coming made him feel like they existed for a reason. A reason can be harmful. A reason can be a weapon. And so, it was best to find out what the reason was, or make guesses, so that the enemy could not stab him in the back. Which wasn't to say the Second was the enemy. But it was to say everyone had the potential to be the enemy. 

"What." The Dark Lord deadpanned, holding a cup of coffee, who of which had just stopped typing into a console moments before, "Repeat yourself? I think my hearing might be messed up due to pure stupidity that you're pouring out of your mouth. You sound like a conspiracy theorist. Genuinely, you sound like some conspiracy theorist from the dark web." 

He counted his words, "Is the Second Coming my replacement." The Chosen One said, more than asked. What was there not to understand? 

"No, no, no! You don't get to go and say cryptic things again and not communicate, you sound insane. Totally insane. Yeah, good ol' Power Punch, who likes drawing and creating and has a bunch of friends is your replacement clone or something. Sure. That's sarcasm, by the way. It doesn't make sense, because they need to at least be similar to you before they can be a replacement or something! You were a challenge," He tapped on the Chosen's chest,"I was a goal," He tapped on his own chest, then pointed in no specfic direction, "They. Are. An. Accident. No correlation there." 

The Chosen One tilted his head. The Dark Lord was genuinely smart. He had created things that some people could only ever dream of creating. He had good strategy in a fight. However, socially, he could be an idiot. This was one of those times. 

"The name." 

"I- y'know what. _Fine_. I'll play along even though I have cool things to make that'd make people bow to me. You know, useful things. Let's say they're a replacement, clone, whatever. What do you do, kill them? That your plan?" 

The Chosen quickly shook his head. He didn't want the Second to be hurt. Ever. To which, that thought scared him. 

"Then what's the point of finding out? It wouldn't change anything, so what's the point?" 

He didn't know.

* * *

The Chosen One did not get jealous. Nor did he experience envy. He experienced something else entirely, because he had no reason to get jealous or experience envy. It simply wasn't possible at this point. It was ignored and it would make no sense if such ever happened. 

However, the emotion he felt made him feel gross as he talked to the Second Coming. It shouldn't, and just talking to the Second didn't make himself feel gross. It was the subject. 

"Have you ever played Minecraft before? I mean, we dont play it like humans do. But it's still fun," The Second held a cube out to him, "We build things and go on adventures sometimes. I thought you might like it, maybe?" 

The Chosen hated his reaction to this. He hated that he couldn't stop thinking about how this person actually got a chance to enjoy things like this, to call little things adventures and not a life goal, to be able to keep one's guard down for so long, to be able to hold something without _breaking_ it so easily, because they had the experience of years to let them know they can create. He hated that he cared for someone again, or that he cared about multiple people now, or that they cared about him. He hated that he couldn't just enjoy this simply without thinking about his own past and lifetime. 

"You okay?" 

He wasn't sure. He almost didn't want to be and that terrified him. 

"Hey don't worry, it's okay! We don't- we don't have to do this now. Or later, just whenever you want, and that's only if! It's fine!" 

Ugh. This was bad. This felt terrible.

"Do you- do you need a hug?" 

You know what? 

Yes. Yes he did. 


End file.
